Zhang Yemiao lay pinned beneath Wang Qi on the bed. Unlike before, she didn’t shy away from his touch with flustered embarrassment. Instead, she leaned in willingly, meeting his lips…

The moment their mouths touched, Wang Qi twisted away and spat blood into a basin beside the bed.

“This is the 82nd time…”

She jotted it down, worry tightening her features. “Is this really okay? Even if it makes sense logically, it’s just too much…” Her voice trembled with concern for his health.

Wang Qi fixed his gaze on her, resolute. “If this is a curse, it must have limits. I refuse to believe it can punch me out of nowhere without costing energy. It’s not some cosmic law. There’s a cap on how many times it can trigger! If I keep kissing you, keep forcing it to activate, it’ll break eventually. I won’t give up.”

“We can research this properly once we’re home,” Zhang Yemiao pleaded, her brow furrowed. “You don’t have to rush like this… Even with Physical Enhancement, spitting blood daily will damage your core, won’t it?”

She dreaded him developing permanent injuries.

A faint blush spread across her cheeks. “If… if you want to do *that*… we don’t have to start with kissing. We could skip straight to other things. It’s fine.”

It was practically an invitation. Though she regretted not being able to kiss him, she’d accept it if he wanted more.

But Wang Qi’s expression turned serious, almost solemn. He stroked her hair gently, making her feel oddly guilty. “I like you—not just because you’re beautiful. Though you *are* beautiful. And yes, I *do* want to do those things. But if I can’t even kiss you? If I only crave your body? What’s the difference between me and scum? I won’t give up.”

Every night, they kissed a dozen times. Wang Qi kissed, spat blood, recovered, kissed again, spat blood, recovered… By the time they neared home, he’d vomited blood eighty-two times.

Clearly, he still wouldn’t quit.

Zhang Yemiao felt wrapped in quiet happiness. Wang Qi didn’t just want her body—his tenderness warmed her all day.

Smiling softly, she hugged him. “So tonight… we sleep like this again?”

“Mm!”

Holding her close, Wang Qi felt the warmth of the girl in his arms. Back on Earth, he’d post this on WeChat Moments. But here… maybe just marry her when they got home?

Holding her like this, without kissing, made everything after feel meaningless. He *did* want her—but it’d be unfair to this precious girl in his arms.

After the first two restless nights, they’d grown used to sleeping tangled together. They drifted off easily now.

Of course, the wilds weren’t safe. But with only two of them, holding tight while Zhang Yemiao set traps outside… a little lowered guard was acceptable.

Days passed. They traveled by sun, slept embraced by night. Nothing strange happened—except the kissing and blood.

The return journey was safer. Beasts rarely left their territories, and bandits weren’t as rampant as feared. Their initial run-in had just been bad luck.

Until they finally reached home.

Zhang Yemiao watched Wang Qi lean in, her face blank.

Their lips met.

“…” *The 376th time*, she started to say—then froze.

Wang Qi didn’t pull away to spit blood?

Two full seconds passed before she registered the grin spreading across his face.

They broke apart, stunned. Then pure, wild joy flooded Wang Qi’s eyes. He gripped her shoulders. “It worked! Just as I thought—if it’s not a cosmic law, grinding it down *will* break it! All those nights of blood weren’t wasted. A mere curse? What can it do to me?!”

Zhang Yemiao’s heart raced with inexplicable excitement. She didn’t know why she was so happy—she just *was*.

Wang Qi kissed her again.

“Mmph!”

A fierce, scorching kiss.

Since that first failed kiss, their burning hearts had been doused like embers in cold water. Now, they reignited—roaring back, unstoppable.

Zhang Yemiao’s mind went blissfully blank. This was her first real kiss: deep, wet, the slick slide of tongues. His masculine scent overwhelmed her senses, igniting a primal instinct. A hungry light flickered in her eyes.

The kiss lasted until they gasped for air.

Wang Qi touched his lips. “So this is a girl’s mouth…”

“H-how… was it?”

“Incredibly sweet!”

He pulled her into another frantic kiss. Wang Qi became a kissing fiend, reducing Zhang Yemiao to putty in his hands—limp, defenseless.

“Yemiao… I want…”

The shift to her nickname was lethal. One tiny detail, and something snapped. Young bodies, young hearts—how could they hold back?

Even under strict ancient morals, forbidden fruit was always tasted.

These two modern souls, transplanted here, were utterly consumed by fire. Restraint? Gone.

In a way, Zhang Yemiao was pure poison.

She indulged Wang Qi so completely that when he finally asked, she only reached for him, face flushed, eyes pleading to be held.

So…

“Gentle… ah~~~” The sight of the golden-haired girl biting the sheets to stifle her cries was unbearably cute. Wang Qi couldn’t help but press harder.

—

Morning light spilled through the window. Zhang Yemiao dragged herself upright, trembling. Thank goodness this was her own home—not some temporary shelter. The buffs she’d prepped for this room were lifesavers. Otherwise, she might’ve died in bed last night.

Whether from exhaustion or pleasure… well, not much difference.

*Dying on a man’s belly?*

Ridiculous.

Zhang Yemiao, no longer a girl, recalled last night’s frenzy. Wang Qi had probably meant to be gentle. First times usually were.

But that damned ring had pent up his frustration… hers too. So last night had been pure wildfire.

*Physical Enhancement* wasn’t quite the right buff… it boosted *both* their stamina equally. And since *she* was the one doing most of the moving… she’d been at a disadvantage!

She realized how naive she’d been. No wonder Wang Qi had taken every advantage… *Gege*, *baba*, *zhuren*—she’d chanted them all last night.

She shot a mock-resentful glance at Wang Qi still sleeping soundly. He’d always been alert before—she’d expected him to wake when she moved…

Was he just exhausted? Truly relaxed for the first time? Did that make her his “hero’s grave”?

Smiling to herself, Zhang Yemiao sat by the bed, watching him sleep. She stole a quick kiss on his cheek, then fled like a thief to make breakfast.

Wang Qi opened his eyes, gritting his teeth. *Dorm Leader is… I almost couldn’t resist doing more. Her body can’t take another round.*

She was a little vixen.

No other word fit. She was adorably tempting—begging to be teased. And her reactions? Utterly satisfying, body and soul.

*Beauty’s boudoir, hero’s grave… so that’s what it means.*

Last night, his Dorm Leader had been so obedient. He’d finally used every “study technique” he’d memorized during his long, lonely years.

Every position he’d imagined—she’d accepted them all. At most, she’d just shot him a flushed glare. Which only made him wilder.

She’d nearly drained him dry. Though she hadn’t looked much better afterward.

Wang Qi suddenly craved a cigarette. He didn’t even smoke. But this moment called for one… though last night would’ve been better timing. Then again, no time for cigarettes last night.

As he savored the memories, the smell of breakfast drifted in.

“Lazy pig! Get up and eat! I know you’re awake!” Zhang Yemiao called from the kitchen.

Wang Qi scrambled up, flustered.

Her cooking was amazing—Mastery of Objects made it effortless for her. But at the table, her stare made him squirm.

“W-what?” he stammered.

Zhang Yemiao pinned him with her gaze. “I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“Last night… could I be pregnant?”

“…”

“Weren’t *you* the one who said I could finish inside last night?”

Zhang Yemiao flushed, remembering the heat of the moment. She glared. “Don’t act like you’d have stopped if I said no! I know your stash—those stories where the heroine says ‘no’ but it never matters. You *like* that resistance. Admit it!”

Wang Qi opened his mouth—then froze. A worse thought struck him. “Yemiao… have you had your period since we got here?”

Zhang Yemiao paused. “I… don’t think so.”

Panic flashed in Wang Qi’s eyes.

“How old is this body supposed to be?”

Zhang Yemiao glanced down—at her slightly developed chest, her petite frame. The curves were undeniably feminine…

She swallowed hard. “I… can’t still be too young for periods, right?”